


What We Do For Love

by Valrhona



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:08:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23126017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valrhona/pseuds/Valrhona
Summary: After they marry and struggle to conceive, Astoria and Draco turn to desperate measures to try to circumvent her curse.
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy
Kudos: 32
Collections: Transfiguration: 2020 Round One





	What We Do For Love

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [DBQ2020Round1](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DBQ2020Round1) collection. 



> Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me but are the property of J.K.R. and Warner Bros. No copyright infringement is intended.  
> The theme for this round of the competition was Transfiguration and my chosen pairing was Astoria Greengrass and Draco Malfoy.  
> Comments/Reviews are encouraged by The Slytherin Cabal's Admin Team on all stories in Death By Quill, but comments left by readers are set to be moderated by story authors until the end of the competition in order to protect participants' anonymity.  
> Thank you to my beta for their time and help.

Astoria Malfoy sat in her wheeled chair in the garden, hands curled inward where they rested on a soft floral-embroidered blanket laid across her legs. She’d asked her mediwitch to bring her here, to where the old stones were covered in moss, a forgotten dais mouldered as it sank into the ground at an angle, ivy climbed broken marble pillars, and a fountain with a carved stone basilisk cast spurts of green algae-filled water through the air to collect in the cracked basin.

“Shall I fix it, ma’am?” the mediwitch asked, glancing around nervously at the forgotten place.

“Fix _what?”_ Astoria asked sharply. “I’ll have tea here, when Scorpius arrives.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the mediwitch responded, then quickly added, “I did not mean to offend.”

“Of course not,” Astoria murmured, waving one hand shortly in a dismissive gesture.

The young mediwitch gave one last wary glance around and then picked her way back over the slick stones in the direction of the manor as hastily as she could.

Astoria smiled to herself as she listened to the footsteps quickly retreating. She had no skill at legilimency but she knew that whether the girl recognized it or not, it was the dark magic steeped into the foundation of the place that caused her to flee. Astoria could feel it too, but instead of the feeling of an ominous presence, it welcomed her; an old, dangerous friend.

This place had been old when Malfoy Manor had been built, Astoria knew. Draco had loved to walk the manor and grounds with her as they courted, showing off the impressive history and how much of it he could recite from memory, of course. She didn’t know she loved him then, when he walked her through the vast halls with their black candles, stained glass, and threadbare tapestries; libraries and parlors with their endless marble-mantled fireplaces and haughty portraits; and entertained her family with multi-course meals and proper place settings. She wasn’t even sure she loved him when she let him show off the mounted creatures in the trophy room, where she finally allowed him to lift her robes and mount her too, her hands pressed against the smooth mahogany wall as the head of a large black dragon stared impassively down upon them and Draco grunted his pleasure into her ear as he came.

She started to love him when she stood her ground against outdated ideals such as pureblood supremacy and Draco asked her to marry him, defying his parents’ wishes by placing a large rectangular emerald set in platinum on her finger. She said yes, and the next year was consumed by Narcissa trying to take the wedding over at every turn. Bolstered by Draco’s full support, she made a formidable opponent for Narcissa and an uneasy truce was formed. Draco declared it the biggest triumph he’d ever witnessed of someone going head to head with his mother.

She was sure he would stop loving her when she was told she wouldn’t be able to conceive a Malfoy heir. Instead, he worked tirelessly to find a magical solution to her curse.

The air was cool and crisp with the first bite of autumn the day of the kitsune hunt. Draco helped her mount her velvety gray granian, though she didn’t need it. The gentle mare had been hers brought from her family’s stables. Draco bent to check everything was secure, irritating her because she’d made sure to put the tack on herself.

“A kiss for luck?” he asked after standing up and deeming everything to be in place.

Fondly exasperated, she bent forward to place the requisite kiss on Draco’s lips and he threaded a wild rose into her hair above her left ear. Mollified, she watched with bemusement as he leapt astride his giant abraxan, light tan in color with a white diamond-shaped patch on his forehead.

Luck was indeed on their side as they closed in on the kitsune. Draco’s horse was superior to all the other male horses on the hunt, strong and fast, but it was Astoria who reached the kitsune first, trapped where she was by a pack of well-trained wolves. She heard Draco call them off behind her and the growls and snaps of their jaws when he tossed a fresh deer carcass for them to fight over as a reward.

Astoria slid down the side of her winged horse and approached the kitsune carefully. She was in fox form, her fur a rich sable with sworling white patterns of light down her body and on her tails. When Astoria got close, the kitsune spoke inside her head.

 _You have caught me in vain,_ the lovely voice said bitterly.

“You want to trick me into letting you go,” Astoria answered, resolutely holding the kitsune’s clever amber gaze.

 _It matters not, for I am as good as dead._ A bloody froth appeared at the corner of her snout as her sides fluttered rapidly with her breathing.

Alarmed, Astoria glanced back at Draco, allowing her fear to show for an instant before turning back. She could hear him sending the others away; the Malfoys won the hunt fairly. What happened next was none of the others’ concern.

“What can I do?” she asked the kitsune.

 _Let me die in peace,_ the voice entreated.

“I came for a wish,” Astoria said stubbornly.

_I can’t grant what you already have, foolish girl._

“I haven’t asked it yet.”

_I can hear the tiny heartbeat. You will bear the heir, and I have no control over his health. Or yours, after._

Astoria’s hands drifted to her belly. She had just seen a new mediwitch yesterday and was given the same news as always: no pregnancy, likely barren. How?

The kitsune’s eyes began to drift closed. Draco was at her side, throwing a blanket on the ground and levitating the kitsune to it.

“Quickly,” he said in a grim, determined tone. “We’ll have to do it another way.”

 _You have the most you can hope for,_ the sweet voice said to her. _Please._

“Draco...” Astoria began, but the blanket-wrapped kitsune was already attached to the abraxan.

“There’s no time, follow me!” he said as the abraxan spread his wings and took off.

Astoria had two choices, she knew. She could ignore the beautiful creature’s dying wish and follow Draco, or she could stay behind and let fate have her way.

In the end, the choice wasn’t difficult. Astoria lifted herself a bit more carefully than normal into the saddle, but she caught up with Draco swiftly and flew ahead of him to the manor. They had spent hours researching backup plans in the darkest recesses of the Malfoy library, which now held the Lestrange collection as well.

They landed as close to the crumbling ritual dais as possible. Astoria wasn’t surprised to see Draco had planned for this even before they’d left. An altar had been placed in a precise location on the dais, made of obsidian that glimmered sullenly in the moonlight. She could see the glint of metal tools as she approached the dais, followed by Draco who was gently levitating the kitsune along with his wand.

“Can you do it?” he asked as he lowered the body of the kitsune onto the altar.

Astoria thought the kitsune seemed even smaller now, as it shivered on the stone. She shoved her pity aside. “I’ll do my part,” she said quietly.

“Quickly, then. My spell won’t keep her alive for long,” he said. He withdrew an object they’d worked on together. Transfiguration had always been a strong subject for her, but for Draco it was more of a hobby. Between the two of them they had made a figurine out of several strong magical materials.

The ritual they worked out was heavily influenced by the ritual Voldemort had used to make his horcruxes. Narcissa had grudgingly helped mostly because, Astoria assumed, she hoped the ritual would backfire on Astoria and leave Draco free to pursue a more worthy wife. Draco had made his mother swear an Unbreakable Vow not to intentionally bring harm to Astoria, which was cold comfort.

Astoria placed a weak sticking charm on a parchment with runes on it and with a deep breath and a wickedly curved ritual knife, began carving the runes into the kitsune’s skin. Blood ran down the altar as one amber eye opened weakly to stare directly at Astoria.

“It’s not just about giving him an heir,” Astoria muttered as she carved faster. “I want a child. I want a _family.”_

_For this, you won’t know him grown._

Even in her head, the lovely voice of the kitsune seemed weak, far away.

“I am sorry, I didn’t want there to be pain,” Astoria whispered.

“The moon is ready,” Draco said, his wand poised.

They chanted the words together as the blood pooled in channels on the altar. Astoria felt the power of the blood magic flowing through her and almost faltered as she thought of the baby growing inside her. If Draco knew, would he insist? But she ignored the momentary concern and focused on drawing out a silvery substance from the blood running down the altar. It looked almost like a memory, but less ethereal and more mercurial. As she drew it out, Draco funneled it into the figurine that seemed too tiny and delicate to hold so much. When the deed was done, Astoria vanished the dessicated body and Draco held the small figurine in a sort of wonder. It looked like a kitsune with 9 tails flared out behind it in varying directions, filled with tiny channels of quicksilver in the same pattern that had been on their kitsune. As Astoria watched, it pulsed faintly in a pattern like a steady heartbeat.

“We did it?” she asked. She suddenly felt dizzy, her muscles jumping as if they were overcharged. Draco caught her effortlessly as her legs gave out.

“We did it,” he assured her, his giddiness tempered with concern for her.

“I’m okay,” she said.

Draco shook his head. “We’ll use the stored wish next moon,” he said, misunderstanding her.

“I mean, we won’t need to,” she smiled as she held her arms around his neck.

“What do you mean? Have you changed your mind?”

“No, of course not. The kitsune... it told me...”

“You’ll get pregnant?” His voice was so full of hope. “Did she-?”

“No, Draco, listen!” Astoria giggled. “I’m already pregnant. She said she could hear him.”

“Hear him? Hear _him?”_ Draco looked in shock suddenly.

“She said I wouldn’t get my wish. Because I already have it,” Astoria said, then patted his face affectionately. “Now put me down before you drop me.”

“Absolutely not! I’m not letting you walk all the way back,” he swore, tightening his grip.

“Draco, I can’t not walk for nine months. You can’t treat me like I’ll break.”

“Just let me this once, then.”

“Just this once,” she smiled, and rested her head against his warm body. It was then that she knew she loved him. Blood-smeared and all.

“Mother?” Scorpius broke through the thick web of memories Astoria had mired herself in.

The dais in front of her eyes blurred and changed as she blinked her eyes; aging, shifting, the altar disappearing.

“Scorpius,” Astoria smiled and tried to ignore the concern on his face. “Thank you for coming. How was the train?”

“Normal, boring,” he shrugged and Astoria could see his face had matured since the last time he’d visited from Hogwarts. Could see the man he was going to become, both like his father and not.

“Did you need something?” he asked, cocking his head to one side. “Should I go get dad?”

“No, please don’t. There was supposed to be tea...”

“Oh yes, the mediwitch was sent home ill, I was supposed to tell you.”

“Ah,” Astoria said, feeling more recovered from her journey into her memories. “Well, I’m glad to see you anyway. Plans change. Why don’t you push me to the roses?”

“Of course,” Scorpius said politely. The wheeled chair, spelled to glide over the uneven stones, moved easily under his direction.

“Are you warm enough?” Scorpius asked as they neared their destination, a wrought-iron table, rusting where the paint had begun peeling off. The wild rose bushes grew nearby along a taller hedge that was neatly trimmed to keep its shape.

“I am, thank you. The blanket has a warming charm that keeps me quite comfortable even when the sun is hiding.” Astoria patted Scorpius’ hand that rested on the chair handles behind her. “Come sit, tell me how things are going, please.”

Scorpius eyed the matching rusty chair beside her dubiously and then sat anyway. He started talking about classes, the professors he liked and didn’t, his friends, and Astoria soaked it all in. Astoria had tea brought out by the house elf, and sipped it while Scorpius went into depth about Slytherin’s chances of winning the Hogwarts Quidditch Cup this year. Eventually he got tired of talking about himself.

“So why did you bring me out here?” he asked with a knowing expression that made him look older than thirteen.

“I wanted a chance to speak to you, in private,” Astoria began.

“It’s not... you’re not dying, are you?” Scorpius asked suddenly, and whatever had made him look wise disappeared, leaving behind a child’s vulnerability.

“Goodness, no, not yet!” Astoria laughed. “The mediwitch considers my condition stable.”

“And since when do we follow the mediwitch’s advice?” Scorpius smirked.

“You’ve been talking to your father, I see,” Astoria said in a longsuffering tone.

Scorpius shrugged again.

“I wanted to spend some time with you, before your holidays are consumed with friends and relationships and life gets more complicated,” Astoria explained. “And, to be serious for a moment, I wanted you to have something.”

“That doesn’t sound ominous at all. If you want to pass on your engagement ring, I think we might need to talk about that.”

Astoria laughed lightly. “I see your sarcasm lessons have gone well. No, I think that talk can wait. Do you remember this?” She reached her hand beneath the blanket and brought out the crystal kitsune.

“I do. I remember I wanted to play with it when I was younger, and you warned me not to touch anything ensconced in a case,” Scorpius said.

“Sound advice wherever you are,” Astoria nodded. “However, now that you are older and I have a feeling that your father may misuse it, I would bequeath it to you now, before he has the chance. Hold out your hand.”

Scorpius did, and she placed the small kitsune into his hand. “What is it?” he asked.

“The short answer is it’s a wish,” she answered as he examined it carefully.

“I can feel enough dark magic tied to it not to ask for the long answer,” he said wryly. “It looks so delicate, like I might break it just holding it.”

“It should take quite some force to break it,” she said, “and the word to use it is already in your head.”

“How long have you had this?” Scorpius asked in amazement. “It’s so skillfully made.”

“We made it long ago, your father and I together. Out of love and determination and yes, lots of black magic.”

“You went to all this trouble, and you didn’t even use it?” Scorpius asked, puzzled.

“We didn’t need to,” Astoria smiled and laid her cool hand on the back of the warm hand Scorpius had rested on his leg. “It turned out we had everything we wanted already.”


End file.
